[The Shifters Committee 05.0] Sensual Hero

by Rebecca Foxx

  They came together, heads banging together as they tried desperately to look into one another’s eyes, pain and pleasure spilling forth from their bodies like a waterfall.

  “Be with me,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “I just was,” she said weakly.

  “No I don’t just mean now. I mean all the time, every day. I want you to be mine.”

  “Oh,” she said quietly. “That’s what you meant.”

  “What do you say?” he asked, looking from one eye to the other and back again.

  “I say…yes,” she said.

  Colton broke out into a smile and kissed her firmly on the mouth.

  “I really like you,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “Well I really like you, too,” she said happily.

  He climbed off of her and headed towards the kitchen while Lisa walked towards the shower. She washed off the rainwater and sweat, the salt and stickiness that once spilled off of Colton. Through the mirror next to the shower, she saw that the storm had all but stopped. It was a beautiful sunny day outside, regardless of the fact that the backyard was essentially a tree massacre.

  She massaged her breasts in the shower, loving the way that Colton had left pink love bites all over her. She wondered briefly what Sunflower was up to.

  When she’d left the bed, she noticed she had about five texts from her all gushing about the storm and the fact that she’d been shacked up with some guy for the whole night. Knowing Sunflower, she’d probably ended up sleeping with him. She chuckled to herself; entertained that everyone had been messing around during the thunderstorm.

  From the kitchen wafted the thick scent of bacon, eggs, and toast. When she walked over just in a towel, Colton handed her a mug of coffee.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. “Breakfast?”

  “Yes please,” she said.

  She couldn’t believe that she’d finally found another man to be with that didn’t make her feel like she was competing with him. Colton was kind, and quite wonderful. She felt like the luckiest girl on the earth having come across his resort.

  Out of all the places that she’d looked at on the map, she’d chosen Colton’s resort. She knew their courtship would continue to be wonderful, hopefully culminating in them proclaiming their everlasting love and devotion to each other. They looked at each other across the kitchen table, occasionally smiling or rolling their eyes out of embarrassment and silliness.

  “I have to go check on the other cabins pretty soon,” Colton told her. “Will you be here when I come back?”

  “Absolutely. Do you want one of the spare keys?”

  He smiled. “Sure.”

  Before he left he kissed Lisa passionately on the lips, cupping her cheeks in his before disappearing into the resort. She sighed and smiled to herself, heading back to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee, excited and enthralled for what the future held.

  THE END

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  Devoured

  Chapter one

  Finally she was living the dream.

  After years of losing herself in the books and filmed adaptions of Jane Austen, Agatha Christie and of course William Shakespeare, Sidney Lange finally was able to visit the place that had inhabited her dreams since the time of her early youth.

  And now that she had arrived here in legendary London town, she had no earthly idea as to what to do. Yep, that’s right; at this point she had nada in the way of a tour schedule. Nary a clue.

  The 25-year-old Floridian had marked her first day in the city by visiting the legendary Buckingham Palace and witnessing in full the changing of the guard, the fun and colorful Piccadilly Circus, the Shakespearean relic known as the Globe Theatre, and the sublime beauty of the River Thames; a long and sun sprinkled pool of sparkling waters that she now admired with wide and awestruck eyes.

  “Yet not as wide or awestruck as they were, say, 25 minutes ago, when I first arrived at the river this morning,” she reasoned, adding with a sigh, “So since I’ve already done the vast majority of the cool stuff that one generally associates with a foreigner’s journey to London, what in the blazes do I do on the second day? Go to McDonald’s? Heck, I could do that back home!”

  “No worries, Miss. You still have plenty of cool stuff to do during your visit to London. You just have to know where to look.”

  Sidney froze in her place as her troubled meditation was disrupted by the sound of a soft melodic voice; one whose thick deep accent teased her senses as she turned to face its intriguing source.

  Standing a full foot above her on the bank of the Thames, the muscular man boasted a luxurious shoulder length fall of cinnamon brown hair that framed a chiseled bronzed face; one that came complete with wide dark eyes, full moist lips and carved cheekbones.

  Dressed in a tight fitting and sublimely flattering gold hued T-shirt that read “Jeremy’s Journeys: Walk Across London,” the man also wore a devastating white toothed smile that endlessly charmed its current beholder.

  “The current beholder who suddenly wished that she had worn a decent dress today and perhaps just a stitch or two of make up to boot,” she mused as her eyes took a self-conscious journey down the length of her rubenesque form, clad in a practical denim jumpsuit and a pair of well-worn sneakers that shone a curious lime green in shade.

  “No worries, Miss. You look smashing to me.”

  Sidney’s eyes flew wide as she heard the Sexy Voice with the Accent flow free once again from the Smexy and Indescribably Gorgeous Male Before Her.

  “Criminy,” she groaned in response, looking him straight in his wide smoky eyes as she admitted, “I just said all of that mess out loud, didn’t I?”

  The man guffawed outright.

  “Indeed you did, Miss,” he confirmed, adding with a saucy wink, “And I find you most delightful. Would you care to join me for my London Walk tour today?”

  Her rebellious gaze fell once again to the surface of his hard muscled chest, which came conveniently covered with a T-shirt that read, ‘Walk Across London.’

  “Are you indeed inviting me to walk across London today?” she queried, adding with pursed lips, “We’re talking about a city that is roughly just over 600 square miles in size and contains any number of towns, villages and boroughs within its hallowed borders. And you are asking me to walk the length of the entire city in your company?” she paused here, once again admiring the bulge of his massive pectoral muscles through the surface of his ultra tight T-shirt. “OK then. Sounds good to me. When do we start?”

  The man laughed.

  “Well actually Petal, we won’t be going that far today,” he revealed to her, adding as he inclined his chiseled head straight in her direction, “My name is Jeremy Lords, and my walks take tourists to all of the hidden, out of the way attractions that form the heart of London; places that one won’t normally find in a standard tourist brochure.”

  He paused here, adding as he made a broad graceful gesture behind him, “Today I’m taking a group on a Shakespeare Tour; one that follows the path of the Bard through his everyday life in 1500s London. I take you far beyond the Globe Theatre, to the places that good ol’ Will lived, socialized with friends—and we get to see another performing arts center where his works were brought to life.”

  Clapping her hands together in an obvious show of enthusiasm, Sidney hopped with girlish glee to join the ever lengthening line of equally excited tourists that formed directly behind Jeremy.

  “I’ll be glad to join your tour!” she enthused, adding as she engaged him in a hearty handshake, “The name’s Sidney Lange, by the way.”

  Merging with a group that—or she couldn’t help but notice—was made up disproportionately of females of all ages who couldn’t keep their eyes off of their visually appealing tour guide—Sidney immediately lost herself in a skilled recreation of the life of
William Shakespeare.

  Using his deep sonorous voice and broad expressive gestures to divine effect, Jeremy showed his attentive followers two of Shakespeare’s homes in London, the mystical and beautiful Blackfriars Theatre—the Globe’s sister theatre--as well as the scenic out of the way retreats where the Bard rested, loved, and wrote some of his greatest works.

  Even as the avid Sidney relished every sight and sound offered during the course of this extensive tour, she savored even more the expressive ways and dynamic nature of her handsome young guide; a man who almost seemed to embody the Bard as—using his smooth booming tones and the graceful movement of his tall muscled form—he delivered lines from Shakespeare’s most memorable plays as well as his many romantic sonnets.

  And, she couldn’t help but notice, her guide looked deep and direct into her eyes as he recited a part of the balcony scene from ‘Romeo and Juliet’; along with the entirety of Sonnet 18, which he noted was particularly favored among the ladies.

  “You can go on and compare me to a summer’s day any old time,” she informed him, adding as she rolled her eyes heavenward, “And here my ovaries and myself just barely survived the separate and pretty darned spectacular readings of that sonnet as performed by Tom Hiddleston and David Tennant. Then you have to come along.”

  Jeremy laughed.

  “You flatter me, Miss. You also make me laugh—a quality that I love in a lady,” he told her, adding as he inclined his sculpted head in her direction, “How is it, I wonder, that an enchanting lady such as yourself is making this trip all alone?”

  Sidney shrugged.

  “Well back in my hometown of Miami, the land of irritatingly thin bikini goddesses, I must admit that I don’t spend a great deal of my time fighting off the pursuing males with an overripe bread stick,” she admitted, adding with a shrug, “And as I make my living as a paranormal novelist, I tend to spend the vast majority of my time holed up in the home office area of my apartment. I really don’t find that much time or energy to go out and meet people.”

  Jeremy gaped, his deep dark eyes flying wide as he considered these words.

  “I thought that your name sounded familiar,” he marveled, voice barely above a whisper. “You are the author who wrote the Crimson Werewolf trilogy—that brilliant trio of books that finally captured the true essence and identity of the werewolf.”

  Sidney smiled.

  “Aw shucks. Well thank you so much for your kind words Jeremy,” she acknowledged his praise as her cheeks flushed the vivid color mentioned in her book title. “I must admit that I’m a bit surprised that you’ve even heard of my books, let alone read them. Most of my readers tend to be, well…” she paused here, adding in an awkward tone as she struggled to find the right words to define her devoted readership, “I don’t know. Female or something.”

  Jeremy guffawed outright.

  “You know, I really should have recognized you sooner as the author of my favorite books. Your sense of humor, your gifted way with words, really shine through in your manner of speech,” he told her, adding in a thoughtful tone, “And now that I know exactly who you are, I simply must invite you to come out with me tonight.”

  Sidney blinked. Hard.

  “Come out with you tonight?” she repeated, tone blank and disbelieving as she pressed, “You mean you’d like to take me out for dinner, maybe out dancing, maybe—I don’t know, something else?” Her imagination all the while racing with the possibilities posed by the concept of ‘something else’—in her typically naughty mind, at least.

  Jeremy smiled.

  “Well actually dear,” he revealed with a teasing smile, “my thoughts were running more along the lines of my only night tour in the London Walks program.”

  Sidney frowned.

  “Oh, so you were talking about a tour?” she queried, tone laced with keen disappointment as she considered these words. “I see.”

  Jeremy looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he seemed to contemplate just how much to reveal about his mysterious nocturnal tour.

  “Well as it turns out, Sidney, I myself have a particular proclivity for paranormal legends,” he revealed, adding as he shot her with a meaningful gaze, “Especially the legend of Le Loup, as the French would say. I am fascinated with all forms and manner of werewolf legends; and as a result I have devised a very special nighttime event to suit my passion. I only offer the Werewolf in London tour once per month, on the night of the full moon.”

  Sidney thought a moment, then nodded.

  “And that would be tomorrow night,” she revealed, adding with a smile, “I can’t believe the timing of our meeting, Jeremy.”

  Returning her beam in full, Jeremy took her hand in his and raised it to his full soft lips for a gentlemanly kiss.

  “I’d call the timing blimey near perfect,” he assented on a whisper, adding as he stared deep into her eyes, “And as the tour doesn’t take place until tomorrow night, I just happen to be free for dinner tonight.” He paused here, adding as he graced her with a playful nudge, “What do you say, Darling? Let’s make London howl!”

  Chapter two

  Soon Sidney found herself ensconced in the luxurious confines of her upscale hotel room; a deluxe suite that featured a sterling panache of gold brocade wallpaper, a candle lined brass chandelier that hung low from a vast ivory corniced ceiling, plush ivory carpeting, and—shining splendorous forth as the centerpiece of the room—a lush canopied bed swathed in the beauty of a silk floral print comforter and covered with a rich array of heart shaped throw pillows.

  Sidney figured with a cheeky grin that she fit in quite well with her ebullient décor, dressed as she was in a flowing knee length pleated pink chiffon dress that came adorned with a sleek pearl belt and a high sweetheart styled bodice. She’d picked up the gown earlier today at a chic London boutique, admiring the way that the stylish frock adorned and accentuated her curvy rubenesque form.

  Running a brush through the thick lengths of her lustrous golden hair, Sidney applied just a touch of pearl pink lipstick and black kohl eyeliner to complete her look; admiring the results in a foot length brass bordered mirror as she contemplated the night ahead.

  Although thrilled by the immediate bond that she’d formed with the gorgeous, good natured Jeremy, she had to admit that she sensed an element of mystery about her most intriguing date; an unnamable yet somehow familiar element that seemed to draw the two of them together.

  “But what is it?” she pondered, pursing her lips in a show of contemplation as she considered the most pleasing peculiarities embodied by her dinner date. The sleek, catlike way in which he moved. The curious, all knowing glow that seemed ever present in the depths of his wide ebony eyes. The flirtatious white toothed smile that seemed somehow wolfish in demeanor.

  “There’s just something about him,” she mused, arching her eyebrows as she noted the apparent similarities between the paranormal heroes she wrote about and the man she’d be joining this evening for dinner. “It’s almost as if I wrote him into my life.”

  Her meditation was disrupted by the sound of a loud sharp whinny; one that came from just outside her window.

  Peering between the fine lace curtains that lined the window of her hotel suite, she spotted the presence of a horse drawn carriage lining the curb outside her hotel; an ivory vehicle that gleamed in the light of the sun overhead, led as it was by two ivory chargers that boasted shiny gold reins and one very dashing driver.

  Standing tall on the driver’s seat of the stately carriage was the vision of her tall statuesque date; adorned this evening in a black silk suit and crisp ivory shirt that hugged and accentuated his every plane and muscle.

  “Your carriage awaits ye, milady!” he called out to her, greeting her with a dazzling smile as he beckoned her forward.

  Soon a stunned Sidney found herself being whisked across London in the cushioned seat of a grand old carriage; arriving finally at a quaint little London pub that—or so she
assumed—would serve as the site of her date that evening.

  As she chowed down on a hearty order of fish and chips and sipped at a tankard of sparkling ale, she found herself the subject of an impromptu interview; one conducted courtesy of the tour guide who hung on her every word.

  “So Miss Sidney,” Jeremy pressed her, his wide dark eyes regarding her over the rim of a bright decorative tankard, “What brings you to England?”

  Sidney grinned.

  “Well truth be told Jeremy, I spent the better part of my youth totally chagrined about the fact that I wasn’t born British,” she revealed with a chuckle, “Between my intense fixation with British music and movies, my insane insistence on staying up all hours of the night to watch a live telecast of any given royal wedding, and my inexplicable addiction to chutney, I was always beyond convinced that I was born in the wrong country.” She paused here, adding with arched eyebrows, “To this day I will gladly raise arms against anyone who says that any other infants aside from Prince George and Princess Charlotte are the most adorable in the universe. And I just happen to have two cats at home named Diana and Harry.”